A Day Off
by QuierdoMusic
Summary: A story for the amazing CiZiwejes, who wished for a Sick!Dean and Caring!Sam story...


**A story for the amazing CiZiwejes, who wished for a Sick!Dean and Caring!Sam story… Hope you're gonna like it…**

**Bia1007… I'm about to write your story, too… **

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**A day off.**

"Dude... you're not sensible at all." Sam grumbled, when his brother gripped his jacket. The younger man stood in front of the door. "You're not going out tonight… that freaking ghost sent you against the wall yesterday… besides… it's _freezing _outside."

"I'm fine Sam." Dean glared at the other man, who wasn't moving, when Dean tried to pass him.

"_Really?_" Sam mocked. "And the gash on your forehead proves it… you have a light concussion… you need to recover."

"Uhm… screw you!" Dean smiled smugly, when he had succeeded to shove his brother aside. "Recovered enough to kick your ass, bro…"

"De-" Sam took a step forward, but the door fell shut in front of his face. "You jerk." He shouted though he knew that his brother couldn't hear him, a storm outside.

……………..

"Dean… if you hear that… it's not funny anymore…" Sam paced the room, whispering to his cell-phone. It's been hours since Dean went out. The younger brother felt sick… looking out of the window every now and then. "Please come back… Dean… or call me back… I want to know whether you're okay…"

Huffing Sam stepped out of the room, sitting down in front of the little apartment. He looked at his watch for the sixth time this minute and ran a hand through his hair. Usually Sam never cared when Dean went out… to have a little drink… but this time he had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Fortunately Dean hadn't taken the Impala… at least that was a reasonable act of his brother…

The fog was thick and couldn't imagine that Dean would let him worry this much…

Sam balled his fists… he shouldn't have let Dean go off tonight… this was his fault. Biting his lip, he stood up, to search after his big brother, the worst scenarios playing in his head…

Dean laying somewhere… bleeding, hurting….

No… that wasn't possible… it was Dean… _Dean…_ his big brother… he had worse injuries and weather wouldn't harm him…

"You're better be okay…" Sam's teeth chattered when he walked through the mood. His whole body was trembling, since he had forgotten his jacket and his pants were already damp_…_

…………………..

_Dean… _Sam was on his quest for his brother for about one hour now… he already was in some bars, his cell always in his hands… when suddenly the said item rung.

"Dean…" His voice was calm, scared… and trembled along with his body. "Where the hell are you?"

"Right back at you…" Dean's voice was horse, when he coughed. "I just…" The sound of Dean vomiting was audible. "I…" Again…

"Dean… are you okay?" Sam's voice was softer now, though it was thick with concern.

"Damn it…" Dean panted. "I'm in our motel room… ugh…I got your massage…" He puked again. Sam shuddered.

"Dean… I'm coming… hold on…" Sam whispered, but didn't hang up, when he headed back to the motel.

The speed heated his body up, making him sweat, he nearly fell when he crossed the porch of the motel.

"D-…" Sam drew in a breath, when he got into the room. "Oh shit… Dean…" He knelt beside his big brother, who was laying on one of the beds, looking just awful. The reek in this room was unbearable. Vomit etched in Sam's nostrils.

"Dean.. hey… bro…" Sam moved his hand over his older brother's forehead. Dean was sweating and cold at the same time. "God… Dean… come on… wake up…"

"S-Sam…" Dean coughed. "I… I think… I don't…." The older hunter's skin turned a little green. "like concussions…."

"You didn't drink alcohol on the top of all?" Sam asked, turning away, so he wouldn't smell Dean's breath anymore.

"Sam… I've…" Dean gulped, pressing his eyes shut, before he opened it for the first time. "Sam… you look like crap… change into fresh clothes or you're gonna…" Dean bowed his head, and Sam rescued himself just in time when Dean puked all over the floor. "_Ouch…_" Dean whimpered, pressing a hand against his face. Sam sat down on the bed beside his brother, a hand on Dean's back.

"Sam… you're gonna catch a cold… change…" A tremor shook Dean's body. "Now."

Sam huffed, but obeyed, hurrying. Afterwards the younger brother fetched the already filled trashcan to put it in front of the bed and cleaned up the floor reluctant, a feeling of sickness in his stomach.

"Dean… I've…" Sam sat down on the other bed, fiddling with the first-aid kit.

"Sam… shut up… I'm not in the mood for a "I told you so"- talk."

"Dude… I totally owe you this talk… did you drink alcohol… this time… answer my question." Sam snapped, his nose wrinkling when Dean spit into the trashcan.

"Nah… I didn't… I wanted to… believe me… but suddenly… I felt like…" Dean let his head fall onto the mattress, exhausted. Sam ran a hand over his face… Dean really looked terrible…

"Hey Dean… please don't hate me… but… I need to take your temperature…" Sam stated, fetching the thermometer out of the kit. His brother radiated.

"Screw you buddy… I'm not…" Dean swallowed again, the shade of green now more visible around his nose. "I'm not… twelve…"

"Yeah… open your mouth… You've walked around in the coldness… and your sick anyway…" Sam nudged his brother's shoulder. "Under the tongue."

"You're a mother hen, bro…" Dean complained around the item in his mouth.

"Look who's talking." Sam smiled gently. Dean frowned but kept quiet.

"Dean… shit… you're running fever… That was so…" Sam startled when Dean suddenly went limp…

"God… no…" Sam fell to his knee, regardless the fact that the floor was still wet, where he had cleaned it… Dean would tell him to change again… "Dean… hey… come on… wake up, Dean…" Sam patted Dean's cheek urgently. "Dean… come on… man…"

"Fuck…" Sam swore, before he headed for the bathroom to fetch a wet washcloth.

………………………………..

His head pounded, when he woke up again and water ran down his forehead, where something was pressed against. "Sammy?" He wasn't really surprised that his voice sounded this horse, since his throat hurt like a bitch.

"You're okay Dean?" Well… he sounded horse… Sam wasn't sounding at all. Immediately Dean was wide awake and opened his eyes. Sam was towering above him.

"Sam… you look… crabbish…" Dean scooted over a little, so Sam had a little more space. His little brother had a red nose and puffy eyes… but sure not from crying… he looked ill… terrible ill… and the coughing just confirmed Dean's fear. "You idiot shouldn't have gone outside without a jacket in the mud."

"Your fault" Sam leaned more heavily against the headboard, his throat to raw to talk.

"I bet…" Dean felt better, but still sick. "So, kiddo… what do you think? You wanna play hooky for a day and watch TV… you can make some soup… and…"

"Yeah, good idea…" Sam smiled down, when Dean offered him a piece of his blanket without a word or a glance. Sam took it thankfully, but didn't mentioned it.

… A hour later the argument began who would stand up to make the soup…

_"I'm gonna be sick…"_

_"I have a cold anyway… I need to stay in the bed…"_

This time Dean got up… just for once…

And next time he would get up for _once,_ too.

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